


Love is art

by Kimmy



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), Shadowhunters (TV) RPF, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: As A Law Student I Would Say It Is A Fic Sui Generis, Gen, Gift Fic, How Do I Tag, M/M, Shirinpocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 16:11:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10948062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimmy/pseuds/Kimmy
Summary: She’s an artist, she knows how to appreciate art. And those two men are definitely real art.





	Love is art

**Author's Note:**

  * For [@shirmirart on Twitter](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=%40shirmirart+on+Twitter).



> PSA: Shirin is a goddess to be worshipped. 
> 
> I feel like I fucked so many things up cause I don't know what I'm doing but forgive me, darling, because I tried my best.

 

After weeks of rather cold and cloudy days more reminiscent of February than May, it’s finally the sun, high up in the sky, bathing Paris in golden light and warmth. Everyone opens their windows and breathes in, leaves the confines of their own home and gets out to lay down in the grass and enjoy the sweet nothingdoing.

 

She’s no different, sitting on a blanket in a secluded corner of the park, a sketchbook on her knee and a pencil in her hand. Her face is a picture of utmost concentration, and as the sunrays fall on her face and a gentle wind blows through her curls she looks angelic with a natural halo, as beautiful as the figures she creates with precise strokes.

 

The eyes staring at her from the paper are captivating, full of pain, rejection, resignation, glassy and sad even framed in the joyfully pink eyeshadow.

 

She’s lost in her creation, unaware of the world around her and she only notices there is a child standing next to her when a tiny hand points in the direction of the drawing, appearing in her line of sight.

 

“Who’s that?”

 

She turns around startled, and finds herself face to face with a little girl, no older than six, small for her age, black skinned and with huge, beautiful eyes. The girl’s looking at her with open, childlike curiosity, hands clasped behind her back and swinging from side, restless.

 

“It’s… an actor, one that I admire. What’s your name, darling?”

 

“Madzie!”

 

But it’s not the girl who’s spoken, the name is instead shouted by a tall man marching fast towards them with a sheepish expression on his face.

 

He’s tall, unusually so, with soft features, a mop of dark hair and a pretty blush on his cheeks. There’s another man right behind him, slightly shorter and yet easily keeping up with him without losing the graceful stride, smiling at her.

 

“We’re sorry. We’re still relatively new to the parenting thing and she’s been so much more energetic lately.”

 

The little girl smiles and hides her face, turning to her fathers and putting her hands out, asking to be brought up. The shorter man take her into his arms and as he straightens she finally has a moment to notice his appearance.

 

He’s tanned, asian looking and his makeup is absolutely on point, even with a seemingly ridiculous amounts of glitter in it. His eyes are the most magical mix of gold and green and as the other man, who’s clearly his husband, if the matching rings and a daughter are anything to go by, stands by his side, she realises she’s staring.

 

But how could she not? She’s an artist, she knows how to appreciate art.

 

“It’s fine.” She says, as she shakes herself out of the trance, not quite sure what to do. Should she stand up? Should she invite them to sit down? Turn back to her drawing and hope they go away?

 

She doesn’t want them to go away. She wants to ask them to sit down and ask if she can draw them.

 

But she doesn’t, since something tells her it would be a slightly awkward thing to ask of strangers. But she doesn’t need to, as the taller man is already kneeling by her side and peeking into the sketchbook.

 

“Is that your work?”

 

The other man has sat by now too, with the girl in his lap, and suddenly her sketchbook is out of her hands and being admired by the two of them while she’s not sure what’s happening and looking very flustered when they keep complimenting her.

 

She can barely believe it when by the end of the day she’s walking home knowing the men names are Magnus and Alec and they have her email and will write to her about a commission of a family portrait.

 

But she definitely doesn’t believe it when the next day she opens her inbox and it turns out they weren’t bluffing about the mail.

 

***

 

It’s beautiful. It really is. The whole of New York stretches in the background in a blurred harmony of lights, and the three of them are standing on the balcony, Madzie looking at the camera while Magnus and Alec steal starstruck glances at one another.

 

It’s been hanging in the office for a week by now and in this week Alec managed to send in exactly 3 reports. His usual weekly average was 13.

 

“Honey, I’m home!”

 

Alec finally manages to tear his eyes away from the painting and stand up to greet his husband. He gives Madzie a kiss on the head before she’s running off to her room, ready to cover paper (and hopefully not the walls) with colourful creations, determined to become an artist ever since their trip to Paris, before turning to Magnus.

 

“Hi.”

 

“Hello, handsome.” They share a gentle and sweet, but passionate kiss before breaking apart but staying in each other’s embrace. “Did you get some work done?”

 

“About that. Basquiat gets out of the living room. We’ll replacing it with family portrait.”

 

At Magnus’ confused expression, Alec managed to stutter out a short explanation.

 

“I know it was your original idea and I insisted on having the painting in my office but… I keep staring at it and get no work done. It’s going.”

 

Magnus burst out into joyful laughter, Alec’s face colouring bright red but his smile fond and proud.

 

“I managed to make a kept man of you, Alexander. Maybe you should become a house husband?”

 

Alec just playfully smacked him over the head.

 

But they both knew Alec really wouldn't mind being a stay at home dad and just staring at the portrait all day when he couldn’t spoil his family in person.

 

***

 

In the end, Basquiat found new home in Alec’s office and the portrait went over the mantelpiece in the living room.

 

Magnus also commissioned a similar painting to the bedroom, but without Madzie. Some things that happen in the bedroom, he reasoned, are not for children’s eyes. Even in paintings.

 

**THE END**

 

 

 

bonus: bloopers 

 

“MAAAAGGGGGNNNNUUUUUSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

“Yes, darling? I’m standing right here, no need to shout.”

 

“What is this?”

 

“I commissioned another painting, this one for my office.”

 

“Magnus. You commissioned my act.”

 

“Oh yes, it was quite a challenge since you refuse to let me take reference pics, but you have to admit she did great with what she had. She’s a talented little bean.”

 

“You commissioned my act, Magnus.”

  
“Yes. Help me hang it?”

**Author's Note:**

> I totally gave up on tagging, can you tell? I hope the fic speaks for itself, because I lost my ability to even after being killed thrice. Bless the fanartists of this fandom.


End file.
